The Heart of the Devil
by Retchaka
Summary: When Matthias dies in a fight with a mysterious demon, Mattimeo leaves his son Martin the II and his wife Tess behind so that he can kill the demonic form. But is it a demon...or someone doomed to torture? This story is being redone, look for the new one.
1. The Brink of Despair

"_Why_..._why me?"_

"_It had to be me."_

"_I had to become the vessel..."_

"_And no one will even look me in the eye anymore, after what I've done..."_

"**_After what I've been through..."_**

**Chapter 1**

"Mattimeo!" shouted a rather bloated mouse, namely Friar Klaus. He was a slightly comical sight, with his head seemingly too small for his plump, round body. His legs were barely visible under his fatty bulk. His feet were like clodhoppers with sandals on the bottom, and he had what looked like carrot cream on his face and robe, which was actually mixed wines, foods, and other edible mess. He had a messy grayish-orange coat of fur that was tangled and curled almost everywhere. Whoever looked at him would probably laugh...

But the urge would be taken away by the urgency displayed on his face.

"Mattimeo!" screamed Klaus, his voice now riddled with frightened gasps.

"Your father! He's outside fighting some kind of...some...monster!

Mattimeo was the new warrior mouse of Redwall Abbey as of twelve years from the time he had defeated Slagar the Cruel. Slagar was a demonic and cunning fox that attempted to steal all of the children from Redwall. He plummeted to his death over a gaping pit after Matthias, Mattimeo's father, interfered.

Mattimeo had not heard the call from Friar Klaus within his room in Redwall Abbey, which was peaceful. He and nearly everyone else in the abbey were completely unaware of the beast outside in the courtyard that was fighting Mattimeo's father, Matthias. Matthias was bleeding all over, sealing his fate, but he kept fighting for as long as his last breath would last. He knew he was fighting against the invincible, but he would keep fighting to save Redwall. He leapt toward the demon, a piercing cry just barely making it's way from his mouth as he jumped one final time;

"Reeeeeedwaaaall!"

With that and Martin's mighty sword by his side, he slew the threat by slicing it in half.

And then his eyes glazed over one last time.

Just before his untimely death.


	2. The Demon Within

"_**But why am I moping?"**_

"_I cannot even feel anything anymore."_

"_Except...I feel...hollow. That is all I can feel."_

"_I've killed millions of people."_

"_And I don't even care."_

"_No more pain..."_

"_**No more fear. Escape is my only option."**_

**Chapter 2**

Hours later, everyone was gathered around Matthias' dead body.

And for first time in his adult life, Mattimeo broke down in tears.

Tess Churchmouse, Mattimeo's wife, tried to comfort Mattimeo while their son, Martin the II, was fast asleep and completely unaware of his grandfather's death. Then, with a flash of a blinding bright light, Matthias opened his eyes.

"Dad?"

Mattimeo shook uncontrollably, and a wide grin stole its way across his muzzle. Suddenly, he had a burst of joy and ran up to hug him...

But was met with a scratch to his face by Matthias.

There was blood all over Mattimeo's face, and an unforgettable look of total shock in his eyes. Then, Matthias' eyes turned into an ugly shade of glowing red, without pupils showing, and his blood ridden head turned a full 360 very slowly, making disgusting cracking noises as it went and twitching back about twice before it completely turned. Then, Matthias let out a very high pitched laugh that resembled something of a banshee's ear-piercing screech.

Everyone started to scream and step back and the dibbuns wept uncontrollably.

"Tess," Mattimeo whispered, "Take our child and run."

"But what about you?" asked the concerned Churchmouse.

"Just do it," replied the warrior mouse impatiently. "Go, quickly!"

"Matti..."

The warrior turned to see her near tears.

"Whatever happens here...I want you to know that..."

"I promise you, I won't die. Now please go before you get yourself hurt."

Tess did as told and broke into a run for the abbey. All of the other creatures stood dazed and frightened, except that of Basil Stag Hare, and Constance the badger, who was concealing herself behind a tree. Mattimeo turned to face his ex-father.

"_He's a monster," _he thought blankly, _"he's no father of mine."_

But as he pulled a dagger from his waist pocket, he felt differently. However, it was too late to **think** differently as Matthias launched himself upon his son.


	3. Near Destruction

"_I have newfound power after being taken over..."_

"_And I can use that power to escape from these...mortals."_

"_But where will I go?"_

"_**Where else...but a book?"**_

**Chapter 3**

It was another fairly hard day for the hares at Salamandastron. The breeze slowly drifted through their fur and flesh as they worked savagely to create a life-size statue in the blazing heat of the slow-as-a-slug sun. The hares hardly seemed to notice this as they slaved away. The water on the shoreline was about as much help as the wind as it slowly pushed against the great mountain's side, creating a slight spray, but it did not reach the hard working mammals.

Meanwhile, Orlando, who had recently become a badger lord, sighed and lay back in his chair at the dining table. He had recently fought with his daughter Auma because she did not have the desire become a badger lord when he passed away. He often wondered how that Devil-may-care daughter of his was going to fit into society, the way her attitude was now. He sighed again and headed outside to see the progress of the structure that he was having built.

The hares at Salamandastron were currently building a statue of Lord Brocktree, so that all would know that this was the beautiful, yet time-worn mountain of Salamandastron, even from a distance. (It was a warning to vermin, as well.)

"I say good chaps! Put your backs into it, wot wot?" shouted Reedpaw. He was a lean and lanky hare, as most hares were, but what made him unique is that he used honey to glue his whiskers into a mustache that many would believe was natural. He wore a neat blue vest that could only belong to a general, and it was covered in badges from bottom to top. Orlando was outside and had heard Reedpaw's little statement, so he decided to confront him.

"Having fun, Reedpaw?"

Reedpaw wheeled around to spot his lord's downward gaze, which paralyzed him as an adder's bite would. He stammered, unable to think of an excuse. He was none too clever, unlike most hares, so that was another way he stood out.

"Well, sir...I-I was j-just...um...Y'know...um...Y'see, I-I was trying to...erm..." Orlando's gaze seemed lighten itself into a hearty grin at Reedpaw's pathetic attempts for an excuse.

"Well, it looks like you've been working hard, trying to get all those hares to do their designated chores. Why don't you take a break from that and..." Reedpaw's beady eyes glittered with the joy of laziness. Then, Orlando's smile broke and he grimaced instead.

"Start taking those stones from the pile over there? I'm sure that'll be much easier than straining your eyes seeing everyone do your work for you, 'wot wot?'" Seemingly amused by his own hare slang, Orlando indignantly trotted off to help the poor hare who smashed her foot when she dropped a large rock. Reedpaw muttered under his breath and took the smallest rock he could find.

--------------

Becky Longbuck, who was on lookout duty for the day, sat lazily somewhere near half of the way up the mountain with binoculars in paw. She was young, eleven years old at most, but she was somewhat larger than most adult, male hares. Her eyes were a very dark shade of green, which seemed a little off to the other hares because her fur was completely white due to albinism, which should have made her eyes red. It did not though, and nobeast bothered to ask why, probably because she didn't know either.

The day had been uneventful, and Becky decided she had wanted to take a nap. She took one last peek through the binoculars to assure herself that everything was normal and blah blah blah...she nearly nodded off when she had seen the strangest thing through her binoculars. She fumbled with her binoculars a bit and stood up straight. She peeked again to see a creature of which she had never seen before, and yelled at the top of her lungs so the other hares could hear.

"What **IS** that?" exclaimed Becky. The other hares looked up to see where she was pointing, and then scanned the horizon in the opposite direction to see the dark figure little more than half a mile away. Whispers, theories and rumors went around as if there was no tomorrow.

"What is what?" Orlando the Axe bellowed out. He had heard all of the commotion from the bottom of the mountain and came up to see whatever it was.

"Sah, there's a beast headin' this way!" one hare said. Becky, with her 20/20 vision and her trusty binoculars, described it in near-perfect detail.

"Well, it's bloomin' weird. The thing's got no tail or snout, hair only on its head, and its face is wrapped in some bandage," stated Becky. She looked around for a second just to see if everyone was listening. They were. "It's got a black shirt and blue pants, and both don't make much of a fashion statement, eh wot?"

Every hare laughed, but Orlando was frozen stiff in terror.

"The Devil...he has returned," said Orlando, who was somewhat in a trance.

"M'Lord, you look like you need a good night's sleep," exclaimed Tarquin L. Woodsorrel the III. He was the spitting image of his ancestor, Tarquin L. Woodsorrel, which was how he got the title. Due to family tradition, he had to wear a silly, irritating and stuffy jester outfit with a harolina with him at almost all times.

"No...everybeast inside the mountain, **NOW!!!**" shouted the frightened badger lord.

"But what about the-"

"Forget it! We must make an evacuation plan!"

As the hares rushed inside the mountain as ordered, Tarquin had an important question in mind.

"_What is he hiding from us?"_


	4. Death of a Badger

"_The book in my closet...Redwall...it's ancient."_

"_Over two thousand years old."_

"_Must be a nice place to live."_

"_I have nowhere else to go, so I may as well._

_Then, the boy disappeared into the book, never to return to his nearly deserted planet..._

_**Because the book was burned that evening.**_

**Chapter 4**

Mattimeo had defeated the demon easily. One thrust to its side with his fist, and a slash to its stomach with his dagger, and the demon was on the ground, shaking badly.

"Shall I do the honors, old chap?" spoke Basil. He had a fake grin on his face, and was just trying to lighten the moment.

"No, you go on inside. I can handle this."

"Are ya sure ya wanna go through with it? He is your father, after all.

"I'll be fine. He is in no position to hurt anyone."

"Suit yourself." Basil then hopped off towards the Abbey.

Then, Matthias turned his head to Mattimeo with a sad, forlorn face. The red was gone from his eyes, and he looked exactly like he did before death.

"Please...my son...Don't kill me...please..."

Mattimeo's stern expression softened to a considerate smile as he leaned over to help his father.

"Father, I would never kill you on purpose. You know that."

"Yes, my son. I do know so...which is why I have the advantage!

Suddenly, the demon leaped and caught Mattimeo in the stomach with a sharp swipe of his claws. Mattimeo fell down and gasped for air, but his pain had taken all of his breath.

"You were always a fool, Mattimeo. You, more than anyone, should know that demons have no emotions."

The monster grabbed the dagger Mattimeo had dropped and stabbed him square in the shoulder, causing him so much pain that it knocked him unconscious.

Then, just when the monster lifted the dagger for the final strike, Constance had run out from where she was hiding and tackled the demon with the full force of her muscle bound body, knocking the demon into a tree.

"Who do you think you are, attacking an innocent creature like that?" she roared, baring her vicious molars as she spoke.

The demon got up and tried to kill Constance, but she grabbed it and bit it in the shoulder as hard as she could.

Blood spewed everywhere; on the grass, on Constance, on Mattimeo and on the demon. As a last resort, the falling monster dug its dagger deep into Constance's stomach, and ripped downward at the same pace that he kneeled and fell.

When the battle was over, Mattimeo was unconscious, and Constance and the demon were both dead.

--------------

When Mattimeo awoke the next day, he was in the infirmary, and Abbot Mordalfus was in a chair beside him. He then spoke in quiet words, as the young warrior mouse was still drowsy from his stressing fight.

"My son...there is something I must tell you."

"What is it?"

The Abbot bit his lip until it nearly bled, and managed to speak about half a minute later.

"While you were knocked out, Constance gave her life to save you."

Mattimeo was now wide awake and wide-eyed.

"Her burial is this afternoon."

"No," Mattimeo whispered. He now felt worse than he ever had in his life. "This is all of my fault...I should be the one in a grave. Not Constance...no..."

"My son, the last thing you should do is blame yourself. You are not the one who killed her. It is no beast's fault save the demon's. Besides, I did not even expect her to live as long as she did. She was a mighty badger, however old she was, and we were proud to have her in the Abbey."

"I know you're right...but I just can't help but feel sad."

"That is a good thing. It shows that you care. And it does not bring shame to cry."

And with that, the Abbot left the room.


	5. Blake of the Darkness

**Chapter 5**

After every hare was in the mountain, Orlando took a head count. Then, he noticed that a certain someone was missing.

"Where's Auma?"

Auma, daughter of Orlando, had set out to meet the figure, ignoring the endless babble that came out of her father's mouth. Recently, she'd had a fight with him, and she went out to release some of her anger, when she noticed the figure. She walked up to it, and when she and the figure were barely two steps away, the figure spoke in a slight whispering tone.

"Who are you?"

Auma, oblivious as to who she was talking to, replied.

"I am Auma, daughter of Lord Orlando the Axe. And may I ask who you are?"

He did not speak. Auma could now see that this being was not woodlander, nor was it vermin, lizard or bird.

Or fish.

It was something completely different.

"_It is probably a boy, by his voice,"_ thought Auma. "So, can I ask _what_ you are?"

The boy stood silent, and then replied.

"I am darkness, and that is all I will ever be, for I cannot feel any emotion. I am hollow."

Now Auma was confused. What did he mean? She dropped the question from her mind.

"So, you mind telling me what you're doing here?

"No one cares."

"Hello, I care! Now tell me!" she snapped. Her voice was now somewhat roaring.

"It is none of your business, maiden."

"Well then, you must have some name..." she said in a disarming voice.

"I don't want my current name, so do me a favor and christen me as another," he replied.

"What? Um..." now, she couldn't _possibly _be more confused or startled than she was. "Okay, I guess I will."

"Then so be it. I will drop my cursed name and be what you call me."

Auma blinked. He was dead serious.

"Then I'll call you...Ertho? No, that sounds weird. Umm..." She took a few seconds to think of what she thought was a suiting name, and then spoke. "**Blake**!"

"Then I am now Blake. Thank you."

He walked past her by a few steps, and then spoke again.

"I am certain our paths will cross again."

"Yeah...okay, I guess."

Then she turned to see a sword that had lodged itself in his back. It looked familiar somehow, but she had no time to remember.

"What happened to you? Why is there a sword in your back?"

The boy glanced over his shoulder and finally took notice of the weapon that had been protruding from his back.

"Amazing. I didn't even notice." With one sharp move, he thrust the sword from his back and stuck it in the ground.

Then, Auma saw the most surprising aspect of Blake. Instead of blood, a black, rolling mist drifted from where the sword had been pulled. She also noticed the sword, once again. It looked exactly like the sword of Martin the Warrior, but with different colors. It now consisted of a purple hilt, a yellow jewel embedded in the blade, and the blade itself was completely black. She drew the blade from the ground and then waved to Blake.

"Well, once again, good bye!"

Blake simply nodded.

And then, in a gust of wind, he was no longer there.


	6. Enter Gurrado

"_It's been three years since I came to this world of "Redwall."_

"_And I have already killed a mouse because of the thing that lives inside of me."_

"**_The Monster."_**

"_But I have met a rather kind badger."_

"_Her name...I think it was...**Auma. **She made me feel...happy. I think. The important thing is that I was actually able to **feel** something."_

"_I neglected to tell her that I was human. And demon, of course._

"_Regardless, I will continue toward the mountain and by nightfall, it will be mine."_

"_I should not have any trouble killing the mountain's inhabitants."_

"_I've heard there was a great secret to this place..."_

"_Salamandastron."_

"_Perhaps it is the key to my emotions..."_

"_The Key to Liberation."_

_Chapter 6_

_Captain Gurrado, a corsair wolf, stood in his private cabin on his ship, BloodBound. He was feared in many a country, especially after his raid on the Asheye Kingdom just three months ago._

_The captain looked very much like what someone would imagine as a pirate. He had smooth, silver hair running down his back, with a red, hooded cloak covering it. Blue wristbands were tied around both of his arms, and he wore a beautiful violet sash around his waist where the coat started to split apart. He wore black cargo pants, dashed here and there with bit of jewelry, and his shoes were turned up at the end of his toes. However, what made him look fearsome his eyes, which had a red color that somehow came without albinism._

_Gurrado was looking to kill a certain person. The Captain had heard of this certain person by trading information with a fox. The fox, in return for the valuable information, received death._

_The certain person was, according to the fox, The Devil._

_And by killing what was thought to be "The Devil", he would become famous and wealthy. First, though, he had to advertise._

_And there was one perfect place for that._

_Redwall Abbey._

_He had started to set sail towards the abbey just two days ago, after preparing his crew for a long and drawn out mission. The boat was rowed by his crew, since Gurrado did not take any prisoners._

_If he was to make a good impression among the Redwallers, he would have to disguise himself and his crew. He used to be an actor, and he had plenty of costumes left over, so this was no problem._

_Then, he remembered hearing about some fox named "Chickendog" making the same mistake. (Or was it "Slaver"?) Regardless, he knew that he couldn't have his crew looking like vermin. He would have to make all sixty-eight members of his corsair crew into proper woodlanders by the time his ship would reach shore. There was also the matter of someone who may see them getting out of the ship, so he had to work out something for that, too._

"Captain!" a wobbly stoat came sprawling into the cabin. "We are under enemy fire!"

The corsair captain nodded calmly. "Tell somebeast to find who is attacking at us."

As the stoat turned to leave the room, the captain spoke again.

"And when you're done with that, report back to me."

The stoat left, and came back about three minutes later.

"Captain Gurrado, y' may want to see this."

Wordlessly, they both stepped outside. The stoat pointed to the sky to see three flying creatures over head.

But they were not birds.

"What in the hell are those things?" shouted the captain in a demanding voice.

"Sir," replied a corsair otter, namely Fishpaw. "I think those are some kind of flying mice..."

Fishpaw was a thin and tall otter, and weak muscles showed through his skinny arms. His attire included a white bandana wrapped about his forehead, a white T-shirt and shredded jeans.

_Fishpaw once lived in the wealthy abbey of Bellhall, but he dearly loved the idea of being a laid-back, treasure-stealing and home-destroying pirate. At least, he enjoyed it more than the life of a snob, always having to "sit up straight", or having to "do chores."_

_One day, when a ship cruised past his town, he saw an opportunity. He immediately rushed to the ship and yelled. What followed in his confusion was a mess of pirates trying to kill him in case their attack on Bellhall was ruined, but Gurrado stepped out and gave him a chance to live **and** spare his town. He was only too happy to oblige._

But now, he wished he had stayed home with his parents. _"Well,"_ thought Fishpaw, _"maybe it's just the situation I'm in. I've had a pretty good life."_

"Flying mice, are they?" Gurrado spoke, bringing Fishpaw back to reality.

"Yes, sir," replied Fishpaw. "If confirmation is necessary, you may come up here and see for yourself."

Gurrado pointed to a random weasel.

"Go see if he's right."

The fat weasel, Deathclaw, ran up to the lookout post as fast as his chubby legs would carry him. He came back down and spoke.

"Cap'n, he's right. But they ain't got no wings, and they've all got needles poking out o' their shoulders. There's only three of 'em, so they can't be too much of a threat."

Gurrado pointed at a group of rats behind him. "You rats take the cannons and aim them upward at the enemy. The rest of you, I want you back down in the ship and rowing at full speed so we don't get hit by our own shots."

"Wait, why do the rats get to fire?" called an angry hedgehog.

"Because," retorted the captain, "I've heard somewhere that they have better aim than hedgehogs. Now get moving!"

As everybeast scrambled to their ordered positions, the captain shouted once more.

"...except for you, Fishpaw."

Fishpaw stopped dead in his tracks.

"Come into my cabin. We will talk there."

Fishpaw gulped and followed Gurrado into his cabin. He then wondered if he had done something wrong, or maybe said something stupid.


	7. Havoc's Divide

**Chapter 7**

"Alright," whispered Orlando to all of the rabbits who were under the mountain with him, "I need two of you to go out and find Auma, and I need three of you to stand watch and possibly guard the mountain from-"

"Scuse me," interrupted Tarquin, "but why are we hiding from just one thing? I'm tellin' ya now, you're acting blinkin' weird, at least more so than usual."

The usually fearsome badger did not reply.

"Hey...this is about those ancient badger legends, ain't it?!?"

"Tarquin, shut up," whispered Becky. "You'll just get us in trouble!"

"You're right."

Everybeast looked up at Orlando as he said this.

"It's true. I was able to decipher the ancient language on these walls, thanks to generations of it being handed down. I read that the Devil would one day come and cause havoc all over the world, but it did not tell me when. That was when I first came to the mountain, though. I had almost forgotten it until now. But it is important that we escape with as many of us alive as possible."

An uncomfortable silence settled upon the room. Orlando broke the silence with suggestion.

"Now, since Tarquin and Becky seem to be so confident, why don't you two go and find Auma for me?"

"Uh, well, y'see, I never really wuz a good fighter," explained Becky. She was young and inexperienced, and had no apparent talent in fighting. However, Tarquin, overconfident as he was, spoke for both of them when he accepted the mission.

"Ah, don't ya worry yer bloomin' head, ol' Becky! If anybeast comes up to fight, we just give 'em the old one-two-punch, eh wot?" As Tarquin spoke, he jabbed the air a couple of times to show off. Becky was still unsure, but Tarquin's attitude towards the situation made her feel somewhat better.

"Well, I guess so..."

"Well, then let's get our feet movin'! We ain't got all night!" Tarquin grabbed Becky's paw and tugged her out from under the mountain and to the outside of the mountain.

"Gee, Axe," said Reedpaw, "It's like you actually knew what was going to happen."

"Oh, I didn't think that it could possibly happen," replied Orlando in a sarcastic manner.

Then, the sound of a boulder being moved caught everyone's attention.

"Show yourself, everybeast," shouted Blake, "for the Devil has arrived."

"NO!!!" screamed Orlando. His heart was beating fast as he tried to decide what to do.

"All of you stay down here and try to dig your way out," shouted the badger lord.

"But what about you?" asked Hurleye.

"I'm going to face the Devil."

--------------

Blake was waiting just past the boulder for someone to come. He eventually heard heavy pawsteps from a set of stairs below. In a few minutes, a badger about twice Blake's own height emerged from the stairs and into the Main Hall.

"What business do you have here, Devil?" growled the badger.

"I simply want the Key to Liberation. If you give it to me now, I will spare you and everyone else in the mountain."

"I have no Key of Liverating or whatever you call it. Leave NOW!!!"

"Hmm...No, I don't think I will."

With that, Blake pulled out a handgun he had hidden in his shirt.

"What is that thing?"

"I'll just show you how it works."

He pulled the trigger and delivered a single shot to the badger's shoulder.

"Now, maybe you are unaware of the object. I will give you one more chance to live. Let me search the mountain, and when I'm done I will leave.

"Really?"

"You have my word."

The badger, clad in golden war armor and wielding a sword nearly equal to his massive size, snorted angrily.

"What good is the word of the Devil?"

"My word is unbreakable, because the Devil is simply a part of me. He does not make up who I really am, but he still lives within me. He has made my life a living hell, and my emotions are held back by him. That is why I must have the Key to Liberation."

"Give me proof."

"You want proof? You REALLY want the proof?"

"Yes, because I don't believe you."

"Fine then..."

Slowly, Blake unwrapped the bandage that surrounded his head. His hair was black with a major red tint, and his left eye was a greenish-blue.

However, his right eye was not there at all.

Instead, the right eye was replaced by what looked like pulsing, circular muscle with a very small hole in the middle. Occasionally, the hole would twitch around along with the muscle, as if it _was_ an eye.

But it wasn't.

Orlando felt sick to the point of fainting when he looked at Blake's disgusting face. He could hardly keep himself from vomiting all over his carpet. He wobbled a few steps forward and then backwards because of the sickening image.

"You see now, don't you? This is what the Devil has done to me. _This is why nobody will look me in the eyes."_

--------------

Tarquin and Becky had stumbled and tripped all the way down the mountain because of Tarquin's recklessness. Tarquin landed flat on his back. Becky had a deep cut in her footpaw that was obtained from an awkwardly jagged rock on the way down. She got up, muttering a few curses to herself, and then started to chew out Tarquin.

Verbally, of course.

"You liddle twerp!" screamed Becky. "How dare you?!? How DARE you just run us off some cliff, you blinkin' idiot!"

But Tarquin did not budge.


	8. Funeral

**Chapter 8**

Matthias and Constance's bodies were buried beside each other in the abbey graveyard that night instead of midday because of atrocious weather. During the funeral, no laugh was heard, no smile was given, and not a single dibbun squealed for anything. One by one, the abbey dwellers came up to the tombstones and paid their sorrowful respects to each one.

The first to come up was a portly hedgehog and his noticeably leaner wife, namely Mr. and Mrs. Kole

"Oh Constance, y' poor thing," wept Mrs. Kole. "Y' didn't deserve this. I hope you rest easy in the Dark Forest. You just as well, Matthias. You were both brave warriors, and I honor your mem'ry. Dear, do you have anything to say?"

Mr. Kole slowly shook his head as a tear escaped his left eye. He took a look at both tombstones before he turned and left, and Mrs. Kole followed.

Next to come were Basil Stag Hare and his adopted otter son, Cheek.

"Matthias...we had quite a few adventures together, wot?" said Basil. It was obvious that he was holding back a streaming flow of tears. Cheek stared at both gravestones.

"I wish they hadn't died. I wish that flippin' monster never came!" Cheek was now on the ground, holding his head in his paws. Basil helped Cheek off the ground and used light humor to calm him.

"Steady now, Cheek! Not good form to cry, eh..." Basil's voice trailed off as he saw the look in Cheek's eyes. He could tell that nothing would cheer Cheek up until after the funeral was over. Basil left first and bid Cheek to come with him, back to the abbey.

A few more came and went, and then Mattimeo, Tess, Martin (who was still sleeping) and Cornflower were up. Mattimeo spoke first.

"Father...I don't...I..." Mattimeo thought for what seemed like an eternity, and then continued. "I don't understand. Why did you have to die? Why did Constance have to die? Why was Martin not there to save you both? I don't know if you can hear me...but I...I'm sorry. I should have been there to save you. I miss you already...and it just...it just hurts so much..." He looked down and stopped his speech. "Tess, is there anything you want to say?"

"You've taken the words out of my mouth," said Tess. Cornflower stepped forward very slowly, and spoke in a shivering voice that one could interpret as hysterical.

"Matthias...why? WHY?!" she sobbed. She kept on trying to force words out of her mouth, but her sobs blocked out her sentences. She was able to sputter a few things here and there, but otherwise, she couldn't help herself. She broke down in an instant, and she was on the ground, screaming and crying. Mattimeo tried to comfort her, but she could not hear anything besides her own wailing. Then, she suddenly stopped crying and then she stopped breathing. Mattimeo was wide-eyed and was beside himself with worry.

"Help!" shouted Mattimeo. "We need medical assistance NOW!!!"


	9. The Cursed Mountain

**Chapter 9**

Auma, after much thought, finally headed back to Salamandastron. She was about halfway there when she spotted two hares. She stepped closer and squinted. It was Tarquin and Becky, but something was wrong. Tarquin wasn't moving. She sprinted to the rescue, hoping that everything was alright.

--------------

"Tarquin?"

Becky now felt sick to her stomach. She kneeled down beside Tarquin and shook him violently.

"Tarquin, if this is a joke, Ah swear it ain't funny!!! Tarquin!?! Ta..." Her voice died as she heard Tarquin cough. He put on the warmest smile he could manage through his unspeakable pain.

"Nothin'...to worry ab-bout, eh w..." Tarquin fainted with the grin pasted on his features. Becky also smiled and scooped him up, being somewhat larger.

"C'mon, let's get you back to Salamandastron, you twerp."

"Becky!!!"

She glanced over her shoulder to spot Auma not too far off.

"What happened to Tarquin?"

"He just fell. He'll be his jolly old self in no time, eh?"

"I sure hope so." Auma's worried eyes quickly returned to normal. "Let's just get back inside. I've got a thing or two to say to father anyway."

Given that, the pair (or trio, if you count unconscious beasts) strolled into the mountain. They stepped into the main hall. Then, Auma shrieked terror.

"Oh my God!!!"

On the floor was Orlando, dressed in his now blood red war armor. His entrails were torn out and scattered around, and both of his paws were cut clean off. One of his eyes was smashed on the floor in a blue and red mess, his neck was in an extremely awkward position, and he had no lower jaw to speak of. Becky nearly dropped the fainted body of Tarquin on the floor at the horrific sight.

"What the flip happened?" gasped Becky. She laid Tarquin on the floor and scanned for other hares. "The basement..."

"What?" asked Auma, still in complete shock.

"The basement! That's where all of us were before this happened! They might still be down there doing who-knows-what?"

They then took off, leaving Tarquin behind. Upon reaching the basement, they had both started to wish they had no eyes, for it was a true nightmare. Not a single hare was spared, most of them sliced brutally in half. Some had there heads smashed in, and others were in little scraps of meat on the floor.

"Oh, no..." whimpered Auma. "No...no..." Auma sat on the floor, crying and hugging her knees. "How did this happen? I'm gone for just a few hours and this happens. How? Why?" She was now past sobbing. She was wide-eyed, staring straight at the mess of blood and guts and dead bodies and scraps and, and, and...She just couldn't handle it anymore. She ran as fast as she could away from the mountain.

Away from the terror.

"Auma, wait up! Auma!" screamed Becky. It was no use, for Auma was already halfway out of Salamandastron, the now cursed mountain.

--------------

"Come, Fishpaw. Have a seat in that chair."

Fishpaw stepped inside Gurrado's private cabin. All around were maps scattered on the floor and a painting of Gurrado on the front wall. His wooden, polished desk was nearly indistinguishable because of all of the maps that made it look so alike to the floor. The only difference was the height of the desk and the quill pen and ink, lying in a container on Gurrado's side of the table. Gurrado took a seat, and Fishpaw did likewise. Gurrado narrowed his red eyes, staring directly into Fishpaw's.

"Now then," spoke Gurrado, "This may be a little off the subject of what is going on right now, but I've noticed you aren't your old self anymore..." Gurrado shut his eyes and pensively scratched at a spot behind his ears. "It's not that it's a bad thing...but what is troubling you?" Fishpaw couldn't believe what he had heard, and responded as such.

"What...?"

"I may be a feared pirate, matey, but I'm not a vicious murderer. I only do what's necessary to get what I want. Nothing less, nothing more. But enough about me. What is troubling you?"

"N-nothing, sir," replied the still shocked otter.

"Don't lie to me, now. I know when something's wrong with one o' my shipmates. Now tell me what's on your mind-!" The ship trembled violently as the sentence was finished.

"Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back." Gurrado shot out the door as fast as a bolt of white-hot lightning. Fishpaw was left alone in the roomy and disorganized cabin, just wondering what was happening.

"What in Hellgates is going on?!?" demanded Gurrado.

"We've been hit, G'rrado sir!" shouted Ripjaw. He was a pudgy, gray furred rat with no hint of oral hygiene. He wore a captain's vest, though he was nothing of the sort, and he rolled his "R's" with natural ease. "What should we do-?"

"CAPTAIN!!! I GOT ONE!!! I GOT ONE!!!" shouted a rat over at the left side cannons. Everybeast looked up to see one of the creatures spiraling down, straight towards the ship. The other two pulled out, seemingly because they were afraid. The winged mouse slammed into the deck of the ship with a sickening thud. Amazingly, it slowly rose from the deck and into a standing position. It had a flaming red coat of fur, a black wing sticking out of its left side, and millions of sharp, silver needles sticking out of its right shoulder.

"Congrats, pirates of this..." The mouse stomped lightly on the floorboards of the pirate ship a few times. "This...masterpiece." The mouse grinned from end to end, his smile just as full of venom as an adder's toothbrush.


End file.
